The Depths of Power
by Elentariel
Summary: AU HBP. During the summer after 5th year, Harry learns some startling information and discovers new powers, friends and family.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or any part of the world created by J.K.Rowling

Chapter 1

It was a warm July morning and Harry Potter was sitting in the middle of the smallest bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive. Around him, the room was filled with countless parchments, books and notes; his school trunk was in the far corner, lid open to reveal its contents. Currently Harry was deep in concentration, writing everything he could remember of his dreams. For anyone else, it would have been a pointless endeavour, but for Harry, the boy-who-lived and abnormal in every sense of the word, his dreams could save a life. Last night's dreams were particularly vital, as he had witnessed Severus Snape, potions master, and spy for the light, being denounced as a traitor by Bellatrix Lestrange. This had become a regular occurrence, and Dumbledore had told him to report anything of importance.

Finishing, he sealed the parchment and reached for the pendant that hung around his neck. Speaking softly, he voiced the activation code:

"Potter, phoenix report"

Within seconds, Fawkes flashed into the room. Greeting the phoenix, Harry offered the parchment to the Fawkes, who rubbed against his hand in a reassuring way before disappearing. The Dursleys had gone to visit the cinema, leaving a list of chores he couldn't complete due to the locks on his bedroom door.

Harry sighed, looking around the room tiredly. The death of his godfather had affected him deeply, and he had turned to studying as a means of escape from the feelings of guilt and sorrow that had threatened to consume him. In addition, he was close to his magical maturity, and his magical core had strengthened and expanded. Unlike all recorded facts however, this had been accompanied by an obvious increased in his intellectual abilities, which had supported the desire to study, which, suspected Harry, would have otherwise only lasted several days as opposed to several weeks.

Barely three days into the holidays, he'd received a letter from Gringotts, informing him that as the sole heir to the Potter and Black fortunes, he was able to take control of the vaults at sixteen, instead of the usual seventeen years. While it was not yet his sixteenth birthday, the goblins had granted Harry access to their new system of withdrawals, which worked similar to a muggle credit card, except that it withdrew money directly from his vault and could used in both magical and muggle purchases.

Harry had then taken advantage of the owl ordering system, requesting at least thirty books from Flourish and Blotts on topics that ranged from occlumency to the animagus transformation. The store had kindly thrown in a book on wizarding law for free, which he had found very interesting. He was outraged to discover that he was exempt from the Underage Restriction of the use of magic, as the sole heir of the Noble house of Potter (which was listed among the oldest 20 noble families, while Malfoy was only number 48 on the list). Nevertheless, Harry had no desire to test the Ministry's faithfulness to the law by using magic.

Several of the books he'd received had contained highly advanced magical theory, the kind of information that Hermione was good at. Harry had never understood most magical theories before, but inexplicably, answers to his mental questions kept appearing, as though there was a second person in his thoughts. When he had first considered this, he had an irrational moment of panic that it was Voldemort, but doubted it when he'd asked a pointless question about female fashion and received a reply. He had not told anyone about this second voice, but continued following its advice, which was always clear and practical. Sometimes he felt like it was like a mother's tone, a thought that depressed him occasionally, especially when it warned him about safety and tidiness.

The biggest surprise in the books was the potions texts. Harry had actually enjoyed reading them, to his amazement, and had learned many things that would have been useful had he known it earlier. One of the first potions he looked up was the post cruciatus potion, which repaired the nerve damage left by the unforgivable curse. It had been a necessity, given the frequency of his visions, where he felt the pain of the victims as Voldemort cursed them. It took several owls to send him the necessary ingredients from the apothecary. He had also brewed most of the potions on the sixth year syllabus, which were all used in healing. Harry now hoped he had achieved an O on his potions OWL to allow him to continue the class.

The greatest achievement of the holidays though, had been the mastering of occlumency. The books had been useful, but the true help had been that unknown voice in his head, that had guided him and given suggestions for defences to use. One night while practising his occlumency, his scar had flared with pain, as it had so often since the events at the Ministry. Harry had noticed that the pain was dampened by occlumency, and entertained the thought that the cruciatus curse might be lessened in its effects. Further experimentation with 'scar pain' had been successful, and he now kept the barriers up at all times.

Harry decided he was going to tidy up a bit. After all, he seemed to be sitting in a paper ocean. Rubbing his scar, which still was uncomfortably sore, he wondered how best to organise the copious notes he had taken over the past weeks. Once again, the now annoyingly mysterious voice in his mind supplied an answer. Sighing again, he began to collate the notes near him.

* * *

Several hours later, Harry had cleared most of the room. By this time, it was past lunch and he didn't wish to test his relatives' tolerance by asking for food. He stretched out on the floor with a groan, letting his mind wander aimlessly until he was interrupted by a fresh wave of pain in his scar. Massaging his forehead, he looked towards his trunk. He knew he had several potions to relieve this headache that had been steadily building, but he wasn't sure he wanted to move from his relatively comfortable position. Raising his hand in a half hearted attempt to move towards the trunk, his jaw dropped as the potion soared across the room and into his hand.

He waited with trepidation for the ministry owl that would surely appear any moment. When no such letter seemed forthcoming, Harry downed the potion gratefully as the pain gradually abated. Staring at the ceiling, he considered the unusual flying potion.

_Its wandless magic idiot!_

He groaned in annoyance, the other voice had returned. Harry vaguely remembered a wandless magic book he had ordered. He had been enthusiastic about the idea until he read the introduction to the book.

_**Wandless magic: A dream or reality?**_

_Wandless magic is a highly specialised form of magic. For most witches and wizards, it is impossible due to the required focus, and magical power that is needed. Some of the most powerful wizards are able to use small amounts of wandless magic, such as shrinking objects, illumination and levitation. There have been very few wizards that have reached this level, and even fewer have progressed beyond this. Famous wandless magic users include Merlin, the Founders of Hogwarts and Morgana. It is rumoured that Albus Dumbledore and He-who-must-not-be-named are also able to use this skill. Wandless magic does not manifest until later life, when the person's magical core is stronger. The earliest recorded manifestation of wandless magic is Morgana, at age 27. The earlier the manifestation, the more powerful the wielder. This book explores the theory behind this rare skill, and presents the foremost theories relating to this phenomenon._

Remembering the last part, Harry was prepared to pass out. If the author was correct (a voice that sounded like Hermione scolded him for doubting), he had just performed wandless magic, which should have been impossible due to his age and lack of power. There was an easy way to test how good he was at wandless magic, but part of him didn't want to find out if he was a bigger freak than ever before. Steeling his resolve, he stretched out a hand.

"Expecto patronum"

His silver stag appeared, prancing around the room before disappearing. Harry couldn't prevent the curses that flowed from his mouth.

'Why couldn't he just be normal for once?' wondered Harry as he resigned himself to a new addition of his list of abnormality.

The mental list had been growing since he first entered the wizarding world, and now included items such as: surviving the killing curse, being the object of a prophecy, being a parselmouth, seeing what was under a dementor's hood, and surviving a basilisk's bite. Among other abnormal things like sharing a direct connection to the current dark lord.

There was still a messy, small pile of parchments in the corner. Harry waved his hand in annoyance, only to blink as the paper began to sort itself. A rather Slytherin smirk crept onto his face, as he began to planning the best ways to use this undetectable magic over the coming weeks. Settling himself on his bed, he read the book with renewed interest.

A/N: This is the first time writing in HP fanfiction. Please leave any comments


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore had just returned from a long frustratingly pointless meeting with Cornelius Fudge. The insufferable minister had finally acknowledged Voldemort's return but precious little was being done to address the situation.

Sitting down at his desk, he allowed his head to rest in a brief moment of fatigue, gathering energy for the next inevitable tasks that would demand his concentration. As if summoned by the thought, Fawkes appeared with a report from Harry, marked as urgent by the red symbol placed on the top of the report. Albus was immediately alert; Harry only used the 'urgent' marker when a person's life was in danger.

He noted that the introduction included a request for the report to be analysed in the presence of Severus Snape. Skimming further down the parchment, he quickly realised why. The headmaster closed his eyes momentarily as his mind processed the implications a single sentence held:

"B. Lestrange denounces S. Snape as a traitor and spy."

Looking at the clock, Albus found it was almost 10am. He knew that Severus had returned very early in the morning, and was doubtlessly still asleep. Enclosed in the report, he found another piece of parchment, with the words 'Severus Snape' at the top. He frowned. The parchment appeared completely blank, even after several revealing charms. Picking up the report and the unidentifiable piece of parchment, he left for the potion master's rooms.

* * *

Upon entering Severus' quarters, he couldn't prevent the sad smile that tugged at his lips. The infamous professor, feared by all non-Slytherins in the castle, was in a deep sleep on his couch, having been too exhausted to walk all the way to the bedroom. The Death Eater robes and mask were tossed in the corner, and several empty potions vials were scattered on the coffee table; post cruciatus potion and a sleeping draught, noted Albus absently. He sat in a nearby armchair, content to watch the man he thought of as a son.

Scarcely half an hour later, he was shaken out of his reverie by a soft groan from the man on the couch. Instantly he was by Severus' side, aiding the young man's attempts to sit up.

Severus had awoken to find himself on his couch, which meant, yet again, that he hadn't quite reached the bed. Struggling to sit up, he was surprised by the firm hands that supported him, which undoubtedly belonged to Albus. He could feel the small bursts of healing magic that was transferred through the hands, soothing the lingering ache in his body. Blinking his eyes clear of sleep, he looked up into the face of his mentor and friend.

"Albus?" he queried, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

"Some important information has come to light," said Dumbledore, worry clearly reflected in his blue eyes.

Taking the offered parchment, Severus read through the report. He was surprised by the detailed recounting of last night's Death Eater meeting. There were very few people that would have had access to any relevant information. His eyes quickly found the line that made the blood drain from his face. Seeing this, Albus wrapped a comforting arm around the younger man as the carefully erected emotional barriers crumbled.

Severus took a few moments to compose himself, accepting that death in the near future would be inevitable. When he sure he could speak in a normal voice, he voiced the question that had been piquing his curiosity.

"Who is the report from, Albus?" he asked distractedly, mentally discarding names.

The damned twinkle returned to the blue eyes, as Albus said one of the few names that had not been on Severus' list of possibilities.

"Harry Potter"

"Potter!" spluttered Severus. "How…why?!"

Albus chuckled at the reaction. It wasn't often that he saw Severus stutter.

"As you know, Voldemort shares a link with Harry. Since the events at the Ministry, Harry's visions have grown in their frequency and detail."

The scholarly side of Severus was intrigued. His mind began to analyse the possible reasons for a change in the link.

"Albus, do you know if Potter's visions are sent by the Dark Lord or whether the boy is inadvertently tapping into the link himself?"

"Actually Severus, I believe the change is due to Voldemort's brief possession of Harry at the ministry," said Dumbledore. "Harry tells me that he is able to feel the reflected pain of the victims, as well as Voldemort's emotions."

Severus was now surprised, and somewhat concerned despite his feelings towards Potter. Truth be told, he had never _really_ hated the boy, the way he treated the boy in school was borne out of necessity due to his (now former) spying duties. According to the headmaster, Harry (when had Potter become Harry?), had been witnessing Death Eater meetings for some time; gatherings that often included torture, murder and rape, not to mention the cruciatus curse, which was as common as Longbottom messing up a potion. These were acts that filled most grown men with revulsion yet a not quite sixteen year old was not only seeing but _feeling_ the pain of the victims. Severus winced, thinking back to last night. The Dark Lord had been extremely upset at not being able to find Harry. At least twenty cruciatus curses had been unleashed.

"You had better be providing some kind of relief for the boy" warned the potions master. "Repeated exposure to the cruciatus curse is not good for the brain, as shown by the Longbottoms."

'Not only that,' thought Severus, 'but the boy's nervous system had to be completely wrecked.'

"I am very much aware of that Severus," reassured Dumbledore. "Harry assures me that he is fine. Aside from that, there is another note for you that Harry has somehow managed to conceal from my eyes." The old man seemed rather baffled by the latter.

Unable to resist smirking, Severus took the separate sheet. His eyes widened as re read:

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_First let me extend my greatest hope that you have received the report before Voldemort summons you. I've attempted to hide this letter from the old coot with a Masque potion combined with invisibility ink (the Headmaster really should leave his hair lying around; it's a big security risk). Hopefully, the combination has worked and he's unable to read this letter._

Intrigued by this rarely seen Slytherin side of Potter, he continued to read.

_I would like to formally apologise for looking into your pensieve. I had no right to do anything of the kind, and what I saw has remained, as always will remain a secret. I have only mentioned the incident to Remus and Sirius, concerning the motivations of my father. I think I understand your attitude towards James Potter a little better._

_Since the events of last term, I have been able to construct some type of occlumency barriers. The results seem to resemble the goals mentioned in "Protection of the Mind" by A. Nape but I would like to know who strong they are. I completely understand if you do not wish to even mention occlumency after the aforementioned incident, but I find myself preferring you over the Headmaster, with whom I am struggling to trust right now. Please do not feel in anyway obliged to respond, but I would like to resume our lessons, once more. _

_On another note, it has come to my attention that the basilisk I killed in my second year contains many valuable and rare potions ingredients. It will not have decomposed yet, due to the creature's venom, and I would like your expertise in harvesting it. You will, of course, be entitled to half of any ingredients you would like._

_There are some other things that I have kept secret from the Headmaster. I have been brewing my own post cruciatus potion; however, I have been unable to find the instructions for the non-addictive dreamless sleep potion. I know such a potion exists, as it is referred to in the sixth year text, but I have been unable to procure any. I would be extremely grateful if you could send me a few doses, or if it is too much trouble, the instructions. The visions from Voldemort have been increasing in their physical toll, and I will soon run out of potions._

_Once again, I hope you are well and safe from Voldemort's wrath,_

_Harry Potter._

_P.S: Voldemort doubts Lucius Malfoy's loyalty due to his refusal to allow Draco to be marked._

Severus mulled over the letter for a moment. There was no denying that the Harry Potter who had written this letter sounded far more mature that the angry teen from last year.

Albus had remained silent, while Severus had been reading, although he was obviously curious about the contents of the letter.

"Any problems with Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"None that concern you Headmaster," replied Severus. "It was a personal apology and a request concerning his potions work. I will be visiting Potter's house later today."

Albus nodded, standing up to leave.

"You may use Fawkes."

"Thank you Albus. If you will excuse me, I have some potions to brew…"

A/N: Thank you for your reviews. I am aiming to update regularly, but may be waylaid by RL occasionally.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In the corner of his bedroom, the crumpled form of Harry Potter was attempting to stand. A vision had hit just as he had finished making dinner, and washing up for his relatives, and had lasted almost an hour. Voldemort's offer of an alliance with a vampire clan had been rejected, and he had been venting his fury on his Death Eaters. The pain alone, even with occlumency, had been enough to drive him to his knees.

One hand shakily found the firm support of the wall. Relying heavily on it, he managed to push himself to his feet. Extending a hand, as he had earlier in the morning, he drank a dose of post cruciatus potion he'd summoned. The liquid eased the pain to a dull ache that he knew would return later when the potion wore off.

Stumbling towards his potions kit, which was already set up, he pulled out the ingredients for a new batch of potion. Drawing a deep breath, he sank himself into the preparation of ingredients.

Severus smiled softly to himself as he lifted the last cauldron off the fire. He was in a better mood than earlier after the tranquillity of brewing. Automatically beginning to decant the potions into vials, he frowned as he considered what had been left unsaid in Harry's letter. There hadn't been a single mention of the boy's relatives, or his own health, although Severus could guess quite easily. The request for dreamless sleep suggested the boy wasn't sleeping, and the mention of a non-addictive version was troublesome. What had the boy meant by the visions "_increasing in their physical toll_"?

Severus had heard the rumours of the Golden Boy's less than perfect home life. In fact, his godson Draco had once mentioned something about a cupboard, and the youngest Weasley had talked about Harry being starved in the summer before their second year. He had always ignored the rumours, thinking that they were simply idle gossip. Now, he was not so sure. He remembered how the boy had returned each year, skinnier and pale. Harry had always cleaned efficiently during detentions, which was an unusual skill in a young child. Severus was worried.

He had always noticed that the boy reacted defensively to loud words, whether or not they were spoken in anger. It obviously pointed to abuse, but why hadn't any professors noticed before? It occurred to him that very few of the other professors had any experience in dealing with abused children. Slytherin was the exception, as most abused children were sorted into Slytherin.

Packing the potions into a small box, he included others: nutritional supplements, pepper-up potions, healing and strengthening potions, and a large pot of bruise balm, just to be safe. He didn't know whether the abuse had extended to physical. Realising he had worked through both lunch and dinner, he decided a visit to the kitchens wouldn't hurt. Arriving there, he asked one of the house-elves to send a message to the Headmaster that he would be visiting Harry Potter within the hour.

As the elves brought food, a squeaky voice interrupted his meal.

"Professor Snape? You is visiting Mr Harry Potter sir?"

Turning to look at the house-elf, which seemed remarkably familiar, Severus nodded in response.

"You must be taking this to Mr Harry Potter! Dobby is a good house-elf, looks after his masters!"

Severus was given a package, which appeared to contain a large amount of food. He raised an eyebrow. It seemed the house-elves were aware of Harry's problems at home but hadn't told anyone…unless Harry had specifically ordered them not to. He wouldn't put it past the boy, he had seen how Slytherin the boy could be.

Fawkes arrived, intruding on his thoughts. Grasping the tailfeathers, checking that the potions and the food package was secure, Severus was taken to the puzzling boy that was Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry had almost finished brewing his potion. The post cruciatus potion took two hours and twenty minutes to brew, and the pain was starting to return. Harry bit his lip in concentration as he reached the point where he needed to stir thirty times counter clockwise. His vision starting to blur in fatigue and pain, he willed his hand to stop trembling.

_Twenty one…_

_Twenty six…_

_Twenty nine…_

_Thirty!_

Reinforcing his slowly eroding pain barriers, he attempted to remove the cauldron from the fire, but found his trembling arms too weak. He was surprised as hands entered his narrowing field of vision, setting the cauldron to one side. His wand was immediately out and aimed at the intruder. Squinting through the pain induced haze, it took him several moments to recognise the stranger, but he didn't lower his wand.

"Professor Snape?" he questioned, mentally wincing at the hoarseness of his voice.

The man seemed to understand the silent question.

"You sent me a letter apologising for a certain incident last term"

Harry lowered his wand with relief, only for his legs to give out under him. Trusting Snape to catch him, he blissfully fell unconscious.

Severus saw the boy begin to collapse, and quickly moved to catch him. Picking the teen up, he was dismayed by the lightness of the boy's body. Looking around the room, he grimaced at the tiny bed and thin pillow. Still holding Harry, he managed to manoeuvre his wand out, allowing him to transfigure the bed into something more comfortable. Laying the boy down, he began coaxing healing potions down the boy's throat.

He had arrived just as Harry was completing the final stirs of the potion. His had immediately noticed the unnaturally pale face, and the beads of perspiration dotting the forehead. The stirring arm was trembling, belying the state of the nervous system.

Conjuring a cloth to wipe Harry's face, he froze when he saw the shadow of a bruise on the boy's cheek. Lifting the oversized shirt, he found more fading bruises along one side. Banishing the garment, he began to apply the bruise balm when he was startled by a croaked question.

"Who are you and what the hell have you done with my potions master?"

"Stop talking Harry, your throat needs to heal," said Severus, amused.

Harry glared, although he did not speak. His throat did hurt, and he could feel the soothing effects of the potions Snape had given him. The lack of pain allowed him to start rebuilding his occlumency barriers, which had been severely weakened by the compounded pain of several visions. Concentrating hard, Harry was disappointed at the extremely slow progress. He was simply too exhausted from the pain and the visions to construct any kind of suitable defence. Harry noted absently that the second voice in his head had been conspicuously absent since his last vision, which was unusual.

"Professor?" said Harry, pleased to find that his voice sounded much smoother. "I'm struggling to rebuild my occlumency barriers."

At the sharp look from his professor, Harry continued.

"I don't have the energy."

His professor's face softened slightly.

"You do realise, Harry, that we will have to form a mental bond in order for me to help you?"

Harry smiled in relief. For a moment he had feared the man would have rejected the implied request.

"I know. I'd prefer to have a bond with you than with the Headmaster," replied Harry.

Severus was curious exactly why Harry didn't trust the Headmaster. The two appeared to have held a close bond over the last few years until recently.

"Why exactly would you prefer me over the venerable Headmaster?"

Harry looked upset for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was filled with controlled anger.

"He's been keeping important information about Voldemort and my role in the war secret. He practically ignored me the whole year! If he hadn't, I might not have lost my godfa…"

Harry broke off mid sentence, still not wanting to face those emotions. To his shame, he felt hot tears pricking at his eyes, and he clenched them shut. He rolled away from his professor, burying his face into the pillow. Valiantly fighting to hold his tears at bay, he barely registered the man moving until he was being held securely in a caring embrace. A gentle hand rubbed reassuring circles on his back as, for the first time in many years, he began to weep silently. At last, Harry allowed himself to grieve for the loss of his godfather.

A/N: Just to clear up a few things:

This is NOT a slash story & Dumbledore is not evil, just a bit…misguided in the way he deals with Harry.

This is a repost of the chapter to correct an error that was pointed out to me by Alex & David305. Thank you for bringing my attention to this.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Severus held the teen, understanding the need for the cathartic tears. He recognised that Harry had not been allowed time to deal with the loss of his godfather, and mentally cursed Albus' bad timing.

Albus had told him about the teen's reaction to the prophecy when he had arrived to help repair the damage to the office. Severus himself knew parts of the prophecy. He felt that the news could have been delivered at a less emotional time, when Harry had been more prepared to deal with the burden placed on him by the prophecy, and had told Albus as such. The annoying Headmaster had replied that Harry was strong willed, and that he was certain Harry would pull through. Sometimes, reflected Severus, Albus forgot that Harry was still emotionally a teen. It was clear that Albus had hoped to protect Harry's childhood, but the Headmaster seemed to have forgotten about treating Harry as an adolescent, by instead immediately treating the teen as an adult. It was clear that nobody seemed to understand how to deal with Harry.

'_Except for you,_' whispered a voice in his mind.

Severus growled mentally at the annoying voice that he thought had disappeared long ago.

'Who are you?' he questioned, not for the first time. He heard only a peal of laughter.

Putting the mystery aside for the moment, he focused on Harry, who had subsided into the occasional sniff. Severus realised that Harry was clutching his robes in a death grip, attaching himself firmly to his professor. Rubbing soothing circles on Harry's back, he reached out mentally towards him.

Harry recognised the mental contact and released his shaky barriers. The professor was like a guiding light in his mind's eye, showing him how to form a mental bond. A link was formed between his magical core and his mind, which then linked into the professor's mind. It resembled a bridge, glowing with the intertwined threads of magic from the two people. Snape then sealed the bond to prevent any outside minds, before sending a small wave of magical power through to Harry. With his professor's help, Harry efficiently constructed his occlumency barriers, in particular, the barriers that dampened his link to Voldemort.

Severus observed the building barriers with interest. The barrier resembled nothing that he had seen before. There seemed to be chambers, images, and strange patterns built into the now formidable defences. Sending a generalised query through their mind link, he received an invitation to enter Harry's mind, which he accepted. 

* * *

He found himself in a comfortable room, with rich mahogany furnishings and plush deep green armchairs. Harry was lying down on one of the couches near the fireplace, eyes closed. Severus sat on the chair next to him. 

"Thank you for your help professor," said Harry, eyes still shut.

"Don't mention it Harry," replied Severus. "But I admit Harry, I am curious about your occlumency barriers. They are different to anything else I have seen before."

"I don't really know how I made them, Professor. I just wanted to protect my mind and everything that is important to the war. I imagined it like a fortress, and then I thought about what would be in the rooms, the corridors and so on. It just…seemed to come together," Harry said.

He was careful not to mention the unknown voice that had suggested the method in the first place. As Ron had said in their second year, hearing voices was not a good thing.

Some bit of information tugged at Severus' mind. Harry's description seemed familiar, but it was not anything recent. Mulling over the information, the answer seemed to suddenly appear in his mind.

"Harry, I don't mean to upset you, but your method of occlumency was long thought lost to the time of the Founders. It was developed by Ravenclaw, who was a master at mind magic," said Severus. "Usually when we form occlumency barriers, they are simple walls, not chambers, and definitely not colours or furnishings like you have in this room. Speaking of which, what is this room?"

Harry's eyes had popped open in surprise, but now he seemed somewhat resigned.

"This is…I suppose you could call it my sanctuary. It's where I retreat to after a bad vision, or when I black out. It's the most protected part of my mind."

Severus didn't see anything that needed protection in the room, and told Harry as such. The teen laughed.

"Of course you don't see anything. It's all hidden away. Although, I can show you…"

Harry hissed in parseltongue, and the shelves covering the walls of the room shimmered into existence. A table in the centre appeared, with a series of charts on it. Now moving off the couch, Harry indicated the charts.

"This one is a map, that shows me the layout of my mind and who is in it."

There seemed to be an enchantment that prevented Severus from reading the map clearly, as the image shifted unceasingly. He tapped the chart to the right.

"This one?"

"That monitors my health, which is particularly important after a vision, as it shows me how badly the curses have affected me. When the nerve damage reaches a certain point, I need a potion urgently. It also tells me when I'm about to pass out…like earlier."

"And yet, you were brewing a potion instead of resting?" enquired Severus, one eyebrow raised.

Harry blushed in embarrassment.

"I ignored the warnings," he admitted.

Seeing the teen was uncomfortable, Severus changed the topic.

"I am satisfied that your barriers are sufficiently strong, but I don't understand why you are still receiving visions," said a confused Severus.

"I think I might have an answer to that, Professor. You see, I found my link to Voldemort bypasses the shields because it is rooted in my scar, which is part of my body. Also, Voldemort took some of my blood in the third task, so we share a blood link. All I have managed to do is suppress the link, but it requires active awareness. When I sleep, I'm unable to suppress it, instead, I contain it away from my mind but I still see what _he_ is doing."

Harry's explanation was clear and logical to Severus, who was dismayed that Harry would continue to see the Dark Lo-Voldemort's activities. He resolved that he would help the teen through this issue, especially as his spying duties were now over. A little voice reminded him he had yet to thank Harry for saving his life.

"Harry…I have to thank you for preventing me from going back to the Dark Lo-Voldemort."

Harry seemed genuinely puzzled.

"Why do you need to thank me? All I did was report back to the Headmaster – just report, like I do after every vision."

Severus sighed. The teen was so selfless sometimes. Most people would have used the information to blackmail him later.

"Understand this Harry. Not everyone would have done what you did, particularly considering the way I have treated you these past years."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. He supposed it was his 'saving people thing' that Hermione had berated him for. Or maybe he wasn't quite as Slytherin as he thought. A hysterical giggle bubbled to his lips causing him to firmly clamp down on his wayward emotions. The pain must have affected him more than he thought, he mused. He turned back to Snape.

"Professor, are we going to keep this mental bond?"

"Call me Severus, Harry. I think it would be prudent to have an alternative method of communication," replied the man. "And I am not pleased with how your _precious_relatives have been treating you."

"Please don't make a big deal out of it!" said Harry apprehensively. "I have to stay here for their protection."

"_Their_protection?" Severus said disbelievingly. "I believe the wards are placed here for _your_ protection."

"Well, I suppose they would be safest if they never knew about me, but Voldemort knows they're my relatives, and I…I don't want to cause another person's death," finished Harry in a whisper.

Severus fixed him with a piercing glare.

"Repeat after me. I…did…not…kill…them," he said slowly.

Obediently, Harry repeated the phrase, but it was evident to Severus that Harry was still partly blaming himself. He wanted to take the boy away from this terrible environment to get Harry some support, even if it meant putting up with the entire Weasley family. He knew, however, that Harry would, like a foolish Gryffindor, place the security of his family and the blood wards above his own wellbeing.

"I expect to hear from you everyday via the bond, and you will_truthfully_ tell me how you are being treated. You will tell me what happens in your vision and how it has affected your health. You _will_ tell me if there is any trouble with your relatives or if you need any assistance of _any_kind. Do I make myself clear?"

He was in full Professor Snape mode, dark eyes flashing dangerously at any hint of a refusal. Harry nodded, although he was no longer intimidated by the infamous glare. The pair withdrew from their minds, and blinked as reality returned.

Harry blushed as he realised he was still clinging to the front of his professor's robes, but couldn't help but feel comforted and secure in the embrace. Exhausted from the events of the past few days, his eyes slipped shut of their own accord. A potions vial was placed at his lips, and he swallowed obediently, gratefully falling into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

* * *

When he woke, late next morning, still groggy from the potion, he found that Professor Snape had left him a gift of sorts. The room was completely transformed into a comfortable bedroom, and a large supply of potions waited for him on his desk, along with food; enough to last him weeks. A single note was on the desk. 

_Harry,_

_Remember your promise. _

_S.S._

A/N: I know I haven't update in a while – I'm sorry. As I told some of you, I was separated from my computer for over a week, and then had a case of writer's block. This chapter will probably be rewritten in the future, as I'm still not happy with it. Thank you for your reviews and support. Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Severus strode into Dumbledore's office without knocking, robes billowing dramatically, and had the satisfaction of seeing the startled look on the Headmaster's face.

"Severus?" questioned Albus a little weakly

"What the HELL were you thinking Albus? He's a fifteen year old _boy_ who just lost his godfather, for Merlin's sakes! Did you decide on the spur of the moment that he had _magically_ matured ten years in the space of ten minutes? Or maybe you thought the _golden boy_ would just _soldier on_ because that's what all heroes do? Well let me remind you, Albus, that heroes are also _human_. That means, that they have _emotions_, and _feelings_, and it also generally means that when a person close to them _DIES_, they tend to become very upset, emotional and depressed!"

Albus stared shocked, and admittedly, a little confused at his potions professor, who was ranting as he paced in from of the desk in an uncharacteristic loss of self-control.

"…and you sent him back to that _place_, where he has no friends, no counsellors, not even _any_ kind of emotional support, and you expect him to be _SANE_? Albus, for crying out loud, the boy was still in shock over Black's death before you sent him away, let alone grieving for the man! And then, you wonder _why_ the boy is hiding letters from you – _don't_ give me that innocent look, I know perfectly well that you wanted to know what that letter said…"

Dawning realisation brought with it guilt, and moreover, a fear that he had pushed Harry away from him for good.

"Severus?" interrupted Albus

The man turned to face the Headmaster, stopping mid-rant as he took in the remorseful expression on the old man's face.

"I failed everyone," Albus pronounced harshly. "I failed Tom Riddle, you and now Harry."

Severus sighed. "That self-judgement is a little too harsh I think," he said dryly. "Three people do not constitute the world; although I'm flattered you included me. What is more important is that you help Harry, like you helped me. So stop moping. Please. It's utterly insufferable."

The response seemed to jerk Albus out of his daze. The Headmaster cleared his throat, and visibly pulled himself together.

"So Severus, how is Harry?"

"Headmaster, I will not divulge any information, but I suggest you get him out of there within the next week."

Dumbledore sagged in the chair.

"It's that bad?" he whispered.

Severus nodded.

"However, I have no doubt that Harry will forgive you, although I suggest that you treat him as a teenager, and not an adult. I trust you now realise that Harry needs some adult support in his life, and I know that previously to this summer, he has considered you to be like a grandfather. Don't hurt him again," he warned.

Hope lit Albus' eyes.

"I should contact him, maybe bring him to Hogwarts. It must be arranged with the Order, and be kept quiet from the press and Voldemort. Severus, will he be alright for another three days?"

"I have formed a mental bond with him, and will be checking in on him frequently," assured Severus.

That damnable twinkle had returned to Albus' eyes.

"A mental bond? How…unexpected, Severus."

Refusing to respond to such an obviously inane comment, Severus left for his private quarters.

* * *

The next morning, Severus was setting up his cauldron when he felt a 'knock' on the mental bond.

'Professor Snape? Are you busy?' asked Harry.

'No, and I told you to call me Severus, I think,' he replied.

'Uh, I'm in a bit of trouble here Severus…' Harry sounded a little sheepish.

'What! What's wrong? What happened?' Severus was already starting to stride towards the door.

'Um, I'm kinda…stuck in the air.'

Severus paused at the doorway.

'Stuck in the air?' he repeated a little incredulously.

'Uh…yeah. I'm floating in the air and I can't figure out how to get down. I don't have my wand in reach, and I've tried…uh…other methods, but nothing's working.'

There was a faint edge of panic in his mind voice.

Severus smiled, recognising the situation for what is was.

'Harry, I know what's wrong, don't panic. I'm coming over in a few moments, and I would like to bring the Headmaster too. Are you agreeable? He truly does understand this better than I do.'

There was a slight pause.

'Okay.'

The Headmaster was looking through the window, trying to figure out how to regain Harry's trust, when Severus rushed into his office.

"Severus?" he asked, mildly annoyed that the potions master had managed to surprise him yet again.

"Harry's having a magic spike. He's floating in the air."

Albus' eyes widened slightly.

"He must be confused. Let's go Severus."

The Headmaster tapped a sheet of parchment, making a portkey. Together, the men placed a finger on it, and disappeared.

* * *

Harry was bored. Floating, he wasn't even able to propel himself around in the air, which could have been amusing. Waving his arms fruitlessly in the air, he groaned. He was, quite simply, _stuck_. And so, when he recognised the voices of Severus and the Headmaster, he was very glad to see them.

"Good morning Harry," said Dumbledore. "I gather you must be a little confused."

Harry's forehead creased slightly. Dumbledore almost seemed…apologetic? Twisting his head, Harry could clearly see the remorse in the twinkling blue eyes. He closed his eyes momentarily. Professor Dumbledore wanted to make amends, and Harry...would let him, he promised himself silently. Feeling ignored by the Headmaster had hurt more than being told the prophecy.

"Yes Professor," replied Harry politely. "Do you know how to get me down?"

"Yes," said Severus. "I think that any talk can wait until Harry down again."

Albus chuckled.

"Harry, this is being caused by a magic spike. This means that your magical core are expanded out of your body, and created a…what is it the muggles call it? A force field?"

Harry nodded.

"So this force field of magic is surrounding you, and has changed the way the gravity affects you. You need to pull your magic into your body and back under your control."

"How do I do that Professor?" asked Harry, relieved that Dumbledore seemed to know what was happening.

"Alas, for each person it is different. Most people try a mental _pull_ of some kind, to tug the magic back. It will be easier if you meditate and try to feel the magic."

Albus conjured a comfortable sofa in the corner, where both he and Severus sat, observing Harry's attempts to rein in his magic.

Harry sank into a meditative trance, searching for his magical core. A guiding voice in his mind directed his attention inwards, where a vision of coiled threads lay.

'_That is your magic child'_ whispered the voice.

Harry stared at his magical core in awe. Cocoon shaped, it seemed to be made up of thick glittering ropes of magic that pulsed and glowed. There were cords leading out of the core to beyond his vision.

Opening his eyes, he gasped as he surveyed the tangled mass of thread that surrounded him for almost half a metre in all directions. He was vaguely aware of Dumbledore's instructions.

"Well done Harry. Now try to draw your magic back into your core."

He reached out with mental fingers towards the tangle, only for the threads to slip through his grasp. The threads were too tangled to draw them in one by one. The voice in his mind suggested another approach.

Prodding his magical core, Harry started it spinning, the cocoon whirling faster as the threads were drawn into his core. Tangles collapsed as the magic in the threads was sucked into the glowing vortex of magic. As the last bit of magic was pulled in, Harry found himself in a freefall, which was quickly halted by a spell from Severus. He was gently lowered onto his bed, and was immediately being checked over by a concerned Severus.

"Severus I'm fine, really!" protested Harry, a little embarrassed by the way he was being fussed over. He obediently drank the potion that had been handed to him, which seemed to be a strengthening draught, although it didn't taste like the usual potion.

A pointed cough drew his attention back towards Dumbledore.

"So Harry, I'm sure you have some questions."

"Yes Headmaster."

Harry frowned. He could see a deep silver glow around Severus, and a pale gold glow around Dumbledore. Looking at his own hands, they seemed to be veined in bright silver, almost white, threads of magic.

"Professor, my hands are glowing…"

"When you opened yourself to your magic core Harry, you allowed yourself to use a magical sight, as opposed to your normal vision. Did you see your magical core?"

Harry nodded.

"And you would have seen your magic that had escaped you as well. Seeing magic is only possible when using your magic sight. Every person's magic has a different look, or aura. I assume that you can see Professor Snape's aura?"

"Yes Professor, its silver."

"Which reflects Professor Snape's house loyalty in my opinion," added Dumbledore jokingly. "To stop seeing magic, you need to return to your normal vision. Draw out your awareness of your magical core."

The colours seemed to fade out as Harry withdrew his magical vision, leaving the room looking dull. He sighed in disappointment and lay down, suddenly feeling very tired. He absently shifted closer to Severus, who had sat down on the bed beside him.

"What caused the magic spike?" he asked tiredly. "And please tell me it's not another freakish incident."

Albus looked sad. Harry was obviously feeling the burden of responsibility that had been thrust upon him by his actions.

"First Harry, let me tell you how sorry I am for ignoring you last school year. I honestly thought that I could save you from some of the pain by protecting your innocence, but Severus has made me realise that it was the worst thing I could have possibly done. I never wanted to hurt you Harry – never." Tears glistened in his eyes, mirrored in Harry's emerald eyes.

"Do you know how much it hurt -" croaked Harry, "feeling as though nobody cared about me? Feeling as though I was only good for defeating a maniacal Dark Lord? Like I was being used – as though I was some kind of backup plan?"

He reached out towards Dumbledore tearfully, who immediately enfolded him in a warm embrace.

"I love you like a grandson Harry," whispered Albus, rocking the emotional teen. "I promise you – I'll always be there for you from now on."

As he rested against Albus' chest, Harry felt some part of him relax with the instinctive knowledge that everything would someday be alright.

A/N: I finally updated! This was a difficult chapter to write. I'm having a bit of a writer's block in this section of the story – it doesn't always flow the way I would like it to, but hopefully after the next chapter it will be smooth sailing. I'm trying to update regularly, and I appreciate all of your reviews! Thank you to everyone who reviewed!!!

Also, I'm thinking about finding a beta for this story – would anyone like to volunteer?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Harry was feeling much more peaceful when he checked in with Severus the next morning. He had stayed with Albus for most of the afternoon, learning about the nature of magic and practising some exercises the headmaster had given him to help control his magic.

Albus had explained that magic was everywhere, in anything natural, including metals. Wizards were different from muggles because they had a direct connection with magic – their magical core. A wizard's magical core was like a lagoon; being fed magic by their connection to the world, storing it in their core, and releasing the magic through their spells. Subsequently, magic always existed, in its various forms. Magical objects had their own connection to magic, either because they had parts of a magical creature, or because spells had opened a magical channel for the object. When Harry had lost control, his magical core had opened up, releasing the magic from his core, but not to the world. That was why he had been stuck – unable to fully release the magic, and not knowing how to pull it back.

Harry tapped on his side of the mental bond with Severus.

'Hi Severus' he thought.

'Good morning Harry. Have you had any problems?' responded Severus.

'Not really. The Dursleys haven't exactly been feeding me, but I have the food you left me.'

'About that – we completely forgot to tell you with all the events of yesterday, but Albus is arranging to get you out of there soon.'

'Really?' Harry perked up at the prospect of getting out of Privet Drive. While Severus had made his stay far better than usual, the lack of company was depressing. 'Did he say when?'

'I'll have to check, but I think you'll be gone by Saturday morning, the day after tomorrow,' replied Severus. The man hoped that there would be no complications with the ministry; he didn't want Harry to stay with the muggles any longer than necessary.

'That would be brilliant,' sent Harry, echoing the potion master's thoughts. 'I'll start packing!' he though enthusiastically.

Severus chuckled at Harry's antics. It was nice to see him behaving more like his age – happier, carefree.

* * *

When Harry went downstairs to cook dinner for the Dursleys, Vernon eyed him suspiciously. The freak looked entirely too happy, which meant that they were treating him far too lightly. He resolved to change that in the near future.

Harry pulled out a pan and began to prepare a sauce. Vegetables boiled in a pot on the stove and a roast was already in the oven. He hummed absently under his breath as he worked, not minding the cooking as there was food awaiting him upstairs. He turned to get more ingredients from the fridge, avoiding his uncle's attempts to trip him up. When dinner was ready, he placed everything on the table and went back to the kitchen to start cleaning up.

Barely ten minutes later, Harry heard Vernon bellowing for him. Muttering curses under his breath (he had hoped to avoid the man until he left), he entered the dining room. Vernon glared at him, but it couldn't compare to one of Professor Snape's death glares, which Harry had gradually grown immune to.

"BOY! What have you been doing in your room all day?"

Harry blinked in confusion. That had not been the question he'd expected.

"Packing, Uncle Vernon" he said truthfully. He supposed now was a good time to share the good news. "Profes…I mean, the headmaster of my school wants to collect me on Saturday."

There was a pause.

"Saturday, that's the day after tomorrow isn't it?" said Vernon, obviously relishing the idea Harry's absence.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," replied Harry.

"Well you can help you Aunt around the house all of tomorrow then, seeing as you've already _packed_," said his uncle triumphantly.

Harry sighed in relief. He had been expecting a slightly more violent reaction to the loss of their house-elf. On the other hand, it was obvious that his _family_ couldn't wait to get rid of his freakishness. He felt a deep pang of sadness at the thought of his family being happy with his leaving, but ruthlessly squashed the emotion. He couldn't afford to be weak.

* * *

Vernon greeted him the next day with a _very_ long list of things to be done, with everything from cleaning out the shed to painting the fence. Comforting himself with the thought that it was his last day in this hellhole, Harry reluctantly set to work.

In the late afternoon, Harry was surprised by his uncle's early return from Grunnings.

"Boy! Have you finished your chores yet?" bellowed Vernon from the hallway.

Emerging from the attic, covered in dust, Harry was mentally cursing in parseltongue. His uncle had that sadistic expression on his face that usually preceded some form of punishment.

"No, Uncle Vernon," he said softly. "I have four more tasks left."

"Lazy boy! I give you a home, food, clothing, and you can't even finish a few chores! You freaks are all useless." He smiled frighteningly. "I suppose I ought to punish you. Let's see – five strokes for each task undone? Or would you prefer ten?"

Harry was shocked at the severity of the punishment; Vernon usually didn't want to visibly hurt him for the fear that people would ask questions. Pain distracted him as his uncle landed the first strike. Gasping in pain, he barely registered the man's ranting as the blows started coming fast and furiously.

"…Always knew someday those freaks would give up on you. They don't want you too stubborn; want you softened up a bit. You were always holding out on me, with your wizard gold – great big gold coins and all. Well it's too late! They're coming for you tonight and good riddance!"

The last sentence caught Harry's attention.

"Tonight?" he whispered, just before his head slammed back against the wall and he lost consciousness.

* * *

Harry moaned softly as he gradually woke to find himself locked in a familiar cupboard. His body protested as he gingerly felt around for his wand, which luckily was still in his pocket. He was surprised it wasn't broken.

Harry frowned, trying to remember what had happened. Vernon had been shouting…his eyes widened in alarm as he remembered what his uncle had said. Frantically he reached out to Severus.

'Severus! Are you coming to get me tonight?'

'No, tomorrow morning,' responded Severus immediately. 'What's wrong?'

Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach. 'I think that Uncle Vernon must have been bribed by Death Eaters. They're coming tonight.'

'I'll get the order. Harry – _please_ get yourself out of there. Use the order necklace,' said Severus.

'Sorry Severus, but I'm not prepared to give up my only family without a fight,' replied Harry determinedly, already unlocking the cupboard door.

He cast the few healing spells he knew – Vernon had managed to truly beat him up. As he crept from the cupboard, he felt the distinctive shift in the air that meant the wards were being dismantled.

'They're here – the wards are coming down' he told Severus.

Searching for his family, Harry found them sitting in the living room, obviously waiting for the Death Eaters.

"Listen to me Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia. You need to escape right now! The people that are coming will kill you!" he tried to warn them.

"There's no need for any of your nonsense boy, we've made a _deal_. They'll give us enough gold to live like royalty, and we'll get rid of your freakishness. It's perfect!" boomed Vernon.

"Except for the slight problem that you'll be dead before you even touch the money!" cried Harry in frustration. This arguing was wasting precious time.

"Aunt Petunia," he appealed. "I know you've heard about the Death Eaters. They won't have any compunction about killing all of you."

His aunt looked uncertain. "Vernon…are you sure, I've heard stories…"

"No-one is leaving this house!" said Vernon firmly, but Harry wasn't paying attention. He had seen the crimson light outside the front door – a blasting curse.

The front door exploded; through the swirling dust strode the unwelcome figure of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Hello Harry," she said maliciously. "You ought to listen to your uncle – he was right. No-one will leave this house alive."

* * *

A/N: Innumerable thanks to my beta RavensCave.

Thank you so much to my faithful reviewers – your thoughts and comments are welcomed. Please leave a review!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Flanked by other Death Eaters, Bella advanced towards Harry. They eyed each other warily, until Harry made the first move.

"Stupefy" he cried.

Instantly the house was lit up by a barrage of spells from both sides. Harry had brought up a wandless shield unnoticed, one that encompassed both himself and the Dursleys, but he was already beginning to feel the strain of maintaining it, even as he duelled with Bella.

Every so often, he was able to catch one of Bella's companions unaware, but there seemed to be more enemies appearing every minute. Harry could already tell he was fighting a losing battle.

While Petunia and Dudley were wisely staying out of the battle, trying to make the smallest target of themselves as possible, Vernon was not so inclined.

"Now see here!" he tried to be stern. "You people promised us you'd leave us alone. You promised you'd pay us for getting rid of the boy. You promised…"

"Shut up you worthless muggle!" yelled one of the frustrated Death Eater. Harry vaguely recognised the voice as being one of the highly ranked Death Eaters.

Stupidly, Vernon responded in the way he was accustomed, trying to punch the cloaked wizard. The room filled with the infamous green light. Vernon Dursley dropped to the ground, dead.

Caught off guard by the sudden death of his uncle, Harry was quickly reminded of his precarious situation by a cutting curse that shattered his shield, slicing deep into his left shoulder. Seconds later, magical ropes had flown out of Bella's wand and bound him tightly. The spells stopped flying.

She deliberately walked around his bound form slowly, sneering.

"So Harry, how are we feeling? Had enough of playing with the grownups?" she mocked.

Harry gritted his teeth in anger, as he struggled to pull himself into a sitting position. Trussed up as he was, he couldn't reach his wand, and he had hoped he could keep his wandless magic secret for as long as possible.

Dudley was grabbed by one of the robed figures and roughly pushed to the floor.

"Say hello to daddy for us, you fat pig," Bella said maliciously.

At her signal, there came another flash of green light. Dudley's lifeless gaze seemed to pierce Harry's soul.

Harry let out an inarticulate cry of rage and despair. A blast of unfocused power rocked the house. His cousin's murderer was thrown across the room, where he slumped against the wall, unconscious. His grim satisfaction was tempered by Bella's furious response.

"Crucio," she hissed.

Harry collapsed in his bonds, whole body twitching as waves of pain flooded over his body. He bit down on his lower lip, refusing to give her the pleasure of his scream. When the curse was lifted, he found he'd instinctively slipped into magical sight. He could see his magical core swelling ominously, slowly filling his body with power.

Power he couldn't control.

He tossed a wandless cutting curse at Bella's aura, which was the colour of dried blood. He hoped she'd think it was simply accidental magic, like the earlier blast. He knew he'd hit his target when she shrieked. Seconds later, he regretted the action.

"You stupid child! See what your stupidity does. Watch your aunt die for your failure – you are responsible!"

Petunia looked at his bound form in understanding.

"I'm sorry for how we treated you. Stay alive Harry," she whispered sadly. She died in the green light that had become all too familiar.

Harry's heart clenched in grief. He was now totally alone in the world. His cry of anguish echoed in the room. He vowed silently that he would not give up until Voldemort was killed.

The sombre mood was broken by a panicking death Eater.

"Dumbledore's men are here! They're attacking!"

Even while trussed up, Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at the ineptitude of the Death Eaters. Taking at good look at the man, he barely refrained from rolling his eyes a second time. It was Goyle Senior. One of the biggest idiots on the planet, and Voldemort had sent him to capture his arch-nemesis.

As the sounds of apparition became apparent, spells starting flying again, this time at the new attackers. While their attention was diverted, Harry cast wandlessly at the Death Eaters' backs, taking out several before Bella realised what he was doing.

Her response was predictable. However, Harry discovered painfully, that she had two wands, and that two cruciatus curses hurt far more than one. The pain ripped a strangled scream of agony from his throat as he writhed under the power of her spells. He could see the blood red spell like a prickly blanket covering his skin, and setting his nerves on fire. Harry focused all of his energy on maintaining his occlumency shield. Finally, just when he thought he couldn't hold his shield for much longer, the curses mercifully stopped.

The sound of the battling wizards was growing closer. Bella grabbed him and pressed a stud on her robes, evidently a portkey, but was stopped by the anti-portkey wards the order must have raised.

She growled in desperation, unable to apparate, or portkey out, and almost certainly about to fail her mission. She realised quickly the only course of action available.

"I would have preferred to watch you duel our Lord, but this will have to do…Avada Kedavra!"

The green light seemed to come towards him in slow motion. He could see the spell hurtling like a comet, shaped from glittering green threads of magic, each thread for a different purpose, combining to form the unforgivable killing curse. As if in a dream, Harry tugged at one of the threads. It snapped.

The force of the blast hit his chest, sending him careening into the solid wall, and breaking his ribs. The shockwave rolled outwards, windows shattering, as Death Eaters and Order members were swept up and deposited on the floor like rag dolls.

Harry heard the sound of his mother screaming as his eyes rolled back and he collapsed into darkness.

* * *

Someone held him lovingly, rocking him gently. The scent of wildflowers was in the air, one that tugged at his memory, one that was familiar. A gentle hand brushed his forehead, and a soft kiss was pressed to his scar. Harry kept his eyes closed, not wanting to shatter this impossible illusion.

"Let him rest, Lily," came a deep male voice.

Harry knew that voice, had heard it in his nightmares, crying out in fear and pain. His father's voice. He shifted, burrowing his face deeper into his mother's arms.

"He's awake anyway, Prongs. I can tell," said another familiar voice.

Tears leaked from beneath closed lids. He was nudged gently, forcing him to look up into emerald green eyes. As his mind struggled to accept the reality of the situation, he began to sob.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much to all my reviewers. Once again, this chapter is beta-ed by my amazing beta RavensCave. Please keep reviewing, every review is appreciated! 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Mum?" he asked hesitantly, voice raw with emotion. 'How many times had he asked the same question as a child, only to be confronted with the unmerciful darkness of his cupboard?' he remembered bitterly.

"Shh Harry," she soothed. "Mummy's here."

"And what about Daddy?" said James Potter, mock indignant, as he came over to his family.

Harry allowed his parents to fuss over him, relishing the parental care that he'd never experienced before. He couldn't help laughing joyfully. His parents were here! He was finally with his family, and Voldemort…his laughter faltered as he realised the dismal implications. He hadn't killed Voldemort. And he was dead.

"You're not dead Harry." Sirius' voice interrupted his thoughts. For the first time since he had woken, Harry realised that his godfather was with him. He launched himself towards the man.

"Sirius! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…I was stupid…I didn't want…"

Harry was nearly hysterical, babbling and crying. Sirius just held him tightly as the teen released all his guilt and grief. He could tell that Harry still blamed himself for his unfortunate trip through the veil.

"It's okay Prongslet, I'm here," murmured Sirius, as Harry began to calm down.

"I'm sorry I got you killed, Sirius," Harry whispered brokenly.

"Look at me Harry," said the older man firmly. "My choice to leave the house that night was my own. My choice to fight was my own. My arrogance when fighting cousin dearest was not your fault. Nothing that happened that night was your fault."

"Except for the fact that a bunch of kids were fighting Death Eaters," Harry returned.

"Well…yes, but the reason why you wanted to be there, was Voldemort's fault. Not yours Harry. Voldemort is to blame."

Harry thought the issue over for a long moment. His indecision was clear in his green eyes, but equally clear was that he had begun to accept what Sirius was saying. He moved to sit next Sirius on the couch. Harry frowned for a moment when he registered what Sirius had said.

"I'm not dead? Then why are you all here?"

Looking around the room for the first time, Harry realised that it bore a startling resemblance to the Gryffindor common room. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and they were sitting in a circle of overstuffed couches. Lily and James were sitting opposite him, their eyes bright with love and pride.

"We're sort of in your mind…but not," said James slowly.

"Honestly James, that was completely useless. All you've done is to confuse Harry," scolded Lily. "Harry darling, when you were hit by the killing curse, your magic formed a link between where we were, in the realm of the dead, and to your own mind. Think of it like a tunnel, but only your family may enter," Lily explained ably.

"That's good," Harry said with a little relief. "I didn't fancy my mind being invaded by random dead people at all hours. So…I can see you whenever I want?"

"Yes son." Harry looked a little teary at the title he had thought he would never hear. "You haven't lost us yet," reassured his father.

"We were actually going to visit you tonight, but you made it far simpler," added Lily.

"Really? Why?" Harry was confused.

"It's complicated…when we died, we moved on – like Nearly Headless Nick said, and suddenly we remembered a lot of important information that had been hidden. I'm sure you know that your mother was a genius at charms. She created a charm to protect certain members of our family. Even though the Dursleys died tonight, you still have an uncle and a godfather," James said rather disjointedly.

"I do? Who are they? Let me guess – one of them is Severus right?" Harry was excited at the thought of a living family as well as being able to communicate with his dead family.

"Yes, I chose Severus to be your godfather," said Lily. "How did you guess?"

"I suppose his dislike of dad just seemed too irrational for such an intelligent man. I just knew instinctively that he wasn't trying to kill me. He doesn't really hate me, or you mum."

James cleared his throat to catch their attention. "Your uncle is my half brother through a blood bonding ceremony…and it's…uh Lucius Malfoy."

Harry was silent for a long moment.

"Is he still a Death Eater?"

"I don't know Harry," admitted Sirius. "But just before I died, I know Dumbledore was looking at converting him because he didn't want Draco to be marked."

Harry nodded, remembering his vision several days ago. It seemed that Lucius wasn't following Voldemort, although whether he had joined the Order was still unknown. It would be nice to have a family that was accepted in society, especially with the idiots at the Ministry of Magic, mused Harry.

"I know Lucius hasn't treated you well in the past Harry, but he loved you as a baby. To release the spell, you just need to call them by your name for them; that's Papa Severus and Uncle Lucius," said Lily.

Harry looked mildly impressed. "I could say that at one year old?"

"Unfortunately not, but we could gather what you meant to say."

"So after I tell them, then they'll remember…"

"They'll remember their lives as our friends and as our family. More importantly, they'll remember how much they loved you," answered James.

Sirius snorted. "Severus was so protective of you; he claimed that we were a bad influence! _We_ a bad influence? As if the Marauders would ever harm one of our own!"

"Wormtail did," Harry said emotionlessly. 'What would his life have been like had he lived with his godfather and uncle?' he reflected.

His mother sniffed, a little teary. James wrapped an arm around his wife comfortingly, beckoning his son and best friend. The two moved to join Harry's parents, Harry curling up next to his mother. To his surprise the couch automatically expanded to fit the four of them.

Sirius laughed at the shocked look on Harry's face.

"You created this place; you can change the room however you like."

A sudden thought occurred to Harry, and he turned to look at his mother suspiciously.

"You wouldn't happen to have been talking to me this summer, would you? 'Cause I've been hearing this voice, and it sounds female and…"

"I'm sorry Harry; I'm not allowed to tell you who she is. She has power over us even in death. But know this – you can trust her, and she is looking after you," Lily replied.

"You can trust Severus and Lucius too," added Sirius.

"And trust Albus. I know he hurt you, but he will help you in the future," said Lily in a certain tone. "Always follow your instincts, and live with you heart."

She touched his chest lightly, and Harry was unpleasantly surprised to suddenly feel the pain of his injuries. Tugging at his metal shirt, he could see purple bruising blossoming across his chest. His head began to pound and he struggled to pay attention to his mother's words as he was pulled away from the room, back into his body.

* * *

Severus woke, consciousness returning slowly. Sitting up with a soft groan, he realised he was literally amongst a sea of bodies; of Order members and Death Eaters alike. Everyone was unconscious. 

He picked up his wand where it lay beside him, immediately binding all the Death Eaters and taking their wands. How had he found himself in this situation? There had been a fight and then…

Cursing under his breath he searched the bodies for Harry Potter. The teen was lying against the kitchen wall, the lenses of his glasses shattered. For a moment, Severus was sure he was dead. After all, he had been hit by a killing curse. Yet, when he reached gently for his wrist, hand shaking in horrified anticipation, he found a pulse; a little erratic, and not a strong as he had hoped, but Harry had a pulse. Against all the odds, the Boy-who-lived had lived once more.

However, as he began to examine the teen more closely, reversing all the hexes, it was immediately apparent that Harry needed serious medical attention. A swish of his wand closed the still sluggishly bleeding cuts that looked like they had been made by cutting curses. Banishing the oversized shirt, he winced at the dark purple black bruising the covered Harry's torso. It looked far worse that it had the last time he had visited. A diagnostic charm showed him three broken ribs.

He cast numbing charms, and conjured a bandage to bind the torso until Pomfrey could heal it. Seconds later, he became aware that Harry was mumbling under his breath.

"Mum…Dad…Sirius…hurts…please stay…mum!"

Severus touched his face gently.

"Harry, wake up. I need you to wake up for me Harry," he called, both mentally and out loud.

Gradually, Harry began to respond to the potions master, unfocused eyes opening fractionally.

Harry squinted at the blurry figure above him, unsure whether it was a friend or foe.

"Papa Sev'rus?" he murmured confused, leaning into the caressing hand on his cheek.

Severus froze as long hidden memories flooded his mind. Playing quidditch with the Marauders, shopping with Lily, watching his best friend marry James. Singing songs to a new born Harry.

"Oh Merlin! Lily, James…" he whispered, his grief for their deaths unexpectedly renewed.

Suddenly he swept Harry into a protective embrace.

'I swear I'll take care of you Harry,' he said in their minds. 'I'll always protect you.'

"Severus?!" came a disbelieving voice.

The man turned to see a shocked Remus Lupin, who had obviously just woken.

"I'll explain later Lupin. Wake the rest of the Order, and I'll meet you at Headquarters. Harry needs medical attention."

With that final comment, he grabbed both his and Harry's phoenix pendants, and portkeyed away.

* * *

A/N: I'm so sorry this update has taken so long. I have been caught up with exam preparation. Once again, this has been beta read by RavensCave

I really appreciate all the reviews. Please continue reviewing!!!!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Reappearing in the kitchen, the pair found themselves at wandpoint.

"It's just us," croaked Harry. His eyesight was practically useless without his glasses. He couldn't even tell who was holding the wands. The spinning sensation of the portkey, and the building headache was disorientating, and he clutched at Severus for support.

"Someone floo Poppy," ordered Severus. "He needs medical attention."

Harry could hear the people scurrying to obey his godfather's orders. He smiled inwardly. Severus could intimidate everyone, not just first years. The man picked him up and carried him up the stairs, laying him down gently on a bed. The upper rooms of the house had been transformed into a hospital wing. The shelves were well stocked with potions, all brewed by Severus' capable hands. Harry winced softly as his lacerated back made contact with the sheets. The numbing charms were wearing off. Closing his eyes against the pain, he heard Madam Pomfrey's welcome arrival.

The familiar feeling of a diagnostic charm washed over him, and the mediwitch tutted softly at the results.

"Bruises, broken ribs, quite a bad concussion; looks like blunt trauma, significant lacerations covering the torso…surely this can't all be from the attack?" said Pomfrey incredulously, directing the question at Severus.

"A muggle beating beforehand, I believe. I will discuss the issue later. I reversed several jinxes and he was hit by several cutting curses. The bleeding has slowed." His voice was to the point and businesslike.

"Yes," agreed the witch, "you can see evidence of that. I've closed the cuts, the ones caused by the curse are clean but the wounds on his back may leave some scarring; the flesh has been torn. The ribs have healed up nicely. A few blood replenishers would be helpful."

Severus immediately found the required potions, inspecting each with his trained eye before coaxing the potions down Harry's throat.

Poppy was continuing her scan as she closed cuts, and removed shards of glass from Harry's arms.

"There is a large amount of nerve and muscle damage, and an unknown magical impact…"

"He took several cruciatus curses during the battle but has experienced significant exposure to curse previous to the attack. Three days ago I administered a triple strength dose of post cruciatus potion, and I assume that Harry has continued to take normal strength doses. The anonymous reading is most likely the result of an Avada Kedavra curse combining with a magic spike," replied the potions master evenly.

Poppy was flustered by this new information.

"Another killing curse! By Merlin! Is there anything that Mr. Potter cannot survive?"

Harry ignored the exclamations. His headache had retreated to a dull throb in the back of his head, but the effects of the sustained cruciatus curses made him ache fiercely everywhere. He drank all the potions his godfather gave him obediently, not even bothering to pull a face at the taste as he would normally have done.

At that moment, the Headmaster swept into the room.

"Poppy, there are several others that may need your help downstairs, although all the injuries are minor. How is Harry?" he asked, concern evident as he walked over to the bedside.

"Mr. Potter has been seriously injured and managed to survive insurmountable odds…" Poppy choked slightly on the last words, still shocked by the curse Harry had survived.

"There is evidence of a physical beating as well as magical attacks, but with plenty of bed rest and a cycle of potions, he should make a full recovery. I will attend to the others downstairs, Severus is quite capable of administering his own potions," she said with a slight smile towards the younger man. Harry was surprised. It seemed that he wasn't the only person Madam Pomfrey had a soft spot for.

"Do try to stay in one piece Mr Potter," teased the mediwitch as she packed her kit, and promptly left the room. In her absence, all three males echoed a sigh of relief.

"Are there any other potions you would like Harry?" asked Severus, lingering next to the potion shelves.

"Mmm, an energy replenisher would be highly welcomed," replied Harry.

He gratefully swallowed the potion, and relaxed as its effects were felt. He sighed, looking a little more alert, and pulled himself into a sitting position, propped up by pillows.

"Does someone have my glasses?" he asked, frustrated by his blurry vision.

The bright blue blob on the left answered him, identifying it as Albus.

"I'm afraid the glasses were smashed beyond repair. However, we could try…"

There was a murmured incantation and suddenly the world came into focus.

"What was that?" asked Harry, momentarily blinded by the sudden change in vision.

"An old spell, unfortunately it isn't permanent," apologised Dumbledore. "I am pleased to see you survived."

Although the words seemed cold, Harry could hear the catch in the man's voice. He knew the Headmaster truly cared about him. He reached out a hand to the old man, who immediately took it, sitting down on the bed next to him.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't prevent the deaths tonight, Harry," he said softly, caressing Harry's cheek with one hand. "We'll take care of you, don't worry about that."

The teen was surprised for a brief time. With all the events of the night, the deaths of the Dursleys had slipped his mind. He looked towards his godfather for guidance.

"Albus…during the course of events, there was some…new information brought to light," Severus interrupted Albus' musings. The potions master nudged his godson as a prompt.

"Papa Severus is my godfather," said Harry happily.

With those words, surprise flashed across Albus' face, quickly followed by a myriad of other emotions as he, like Severus earlier, relieved man old memories. Finally he smiled, looking at the pair in happiness.

"I am glad there is still someone for you Harry. I know Severus will be a wonderful godfather. Remember Harry, even if Severus was not your godfather, you have many friends that consider you family, and will support you in your grieving."

Unable to contain himself any longer, Severus reached for the teen, stroking the messy mop of hair. Harry's only reaction was to shift closer to his godfather, resting his head against Severus' shoulder. Unnoticed by both, Albus discreetly conjured a camera to take a photo, slipping it inside his periwinkle blue robes.

"What about Uncle Lucius?" asked Harry absently.

There was another silence as Severus and Albus remembered more old memories. Harry looked at them with a sheepish expression. He hadn't meant to accidentally trigger the spell again.

"I know Lucius is discontented with his role as a Death Eater," Severus was thinking allowed. "Draco too does not wish to become a follower…"

"I have already offered the Malfoys our help," added Dumbledore. "Lucius told me that when there was a need, he would accept sanctuary at Hogwarts. At present he is not truly on the side of the light, more neutral. However, Voldemort may very easily force him over to our side."

"He doesn't want his son marked," agreed Harry, pausing when both men looked at him. "What? It was in the letter I sent you!"

'Yes, but only I could read it,' Severus told him mentally. The teen simply looked sheepish again.

"I think the information that Lucius is your godfather will bring him to our side Albus," noted Severus. "In the meantime, we should focus on Harry, and particularly _how_ in Merlin's name, did you survive _another_ Avada Kedavra?!" The last part ended in a near shout. Albus quickly intervened.

"Harry, do you think you could tall me what happened tonight? If you're too tired, you can tell Severus mentally…"

"No, it's ok," Harry said wearily. He had been expecting this. "Earlier in the afternoon, I was helping Aunt Petunia with some chores…" Harry's voice was devoid of any emotion as he described the lead up to Vernon's return home. He had locked any emotions relating to the night deep in his mental fortress, to be dealt with at a more convenient time.

When he reached the part where Vernon had knocked him unconscious, both Severus and Albus made dismayed sounds, although both had already suspected the truth. Unshed tears glistened in pale blue eyes as Harry's continued, detailing his suspicions about Vernon, and the entry of Bellatrix.

Harry was explaining how Vernon has died when he broke off mid-sentence, gasping in pain. A familiar burning centred around his scar began, and with a feeling of dread, Harry realised this was no ordinary scar vision.

"Scar…" he gasped, "he's angry…"

"He must have discovered tonight's failure," said Albus gravely.

"Occlude Harry!" ordered Severus as he sank into their mental link, offering his strength.

Harry clutched to his lifeline. His fortress was being battered by a storm of inconceivable fury. Severus quickly realised that Harry's shields would collapse at any minute.

"Anchor us, Albus!" he exclaimed, diving deeper within to draw on his magical reserves.

The moment Albus secured the pair, both of them relaxed slightly. Although they were still being buffeted by Voldemort's fury, the headmaster was a warm beacon of strength and light in the midst of the ever darkening storm. Taking control, Severus directed their energy to defence rather than containment, locking away all important information behind dense protections. Pain began to overwhelm Harry's physical body, and his mental self was drawn into a vision that no others could enter.

Helplessly, Severus watched as his godson disappeared before his eyes…

* * *

In the physical world, Albus was guarding his two protégés. He had called Poppy as soon as Harry had become unresponsive. Shortly after, Severus had followed Harry into a deep trance. He could sense Severus' anxiety, and knew that somehow, things had gone very wrong indeed.

Suddenly Harry began to twitch in a very familiar manner. Albus muttered a curse that made the mediwitch stare at him in shock. She had never seen Albus Dumbledore lose control like this before.

"Cruciatus curse Poppy, be prepared," he warned the woman.

* * *

Harry appeared on a desolate plain facing Voldemort, his scar immediately exploding in pain.

"You are a fool Potter," sneered the snake like man. "I shall take great delight in destroying you, and all your little friends."

"You're too weak! Do you mean to destroy me like when I was a baby? Or in my first year? Or maybe you mean destroying me like you did in fourth year? Excuse me for not believing you, but you don't seem to have a very good track record!" retorted Harry.

"But that will change," promised Voldemort darkly. "You will tell me the prophecy…eventually."

"Never!"

"Then we shall do it the hard way! Crucio!"

Harry collapsed in agony, trying to hold back his screams. Dimly he could feel his godfather feeding him energy along their link.

"Tell me the prophecy!" demanded Voldemort

"No," Harry answered, defiant.

The curse came again, this time longer and harder.

"Do you know the beauty of this setup Harry? You cannot lose your mind like those pathetic Longbottoms because you are already in your mind! Shall I continue amusing myself? We can do this for a very long time…"

Harry shook his head, preparing himself for a long and painful night.

* * *

A/N: Many thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! I am greatly encouraged by your positive responses. Once again, this chapter is betaread by RavensCave. Please review! 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Harry's body arched off the bed, a tortured scream bubbling out from his lips which brought the whole Order racing upstairs. Poppy stared in shock, unable to treat the teen for a non-physical cause to his pain.

"Harry!"

The adults turned to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny watching their friend in horror. Remus pushed through the crowd to reach Harry, whose limbs flailed wildly. As the awful screams continued, Harry's hand clawed at his scar in an involuntary attempt to stop the pain. Taking charge, the werewolf situated himself behind the boy and forcefully held the arms still.

"He'll only hurt himself further," Remus explained in response to the indignant looks. "Cast a silencing charm, Poppy."

The mediwitch did as ordered and the heart rending noise was replaced by an eerie silence.

"Now what?" asked Ginny softly, clinging to her mother's arm.

"Now," said Remus grimly. "We wait."

* * *

In his mind, Harry had curled up into a ball on the hard ground as wave after wave of pain washed over him. The pitch black aura surrounding Voldemort began to extend as a thick, black cloud that exuded pain, malice and anger. The darkness surrounded Harry's fallen form, dampening his connection to Severus, and leeching away any hope of escape. 

Harry was in despair. It seemed he had thwarted death only to be killed barely two hours later. He knew from his studying over the summer that the prolonged pain would eventually send his physical body into shock, most probably resulting in his death. A slow, torturous death. He was sure there was a way to fight this battle but he didn't know what it was.

Instinctively he retreated from the pain, turning his focus inward. Years of experience had taught him to hide in his mind during physical pain, allowing him to cut off the emotional impact to pain until he could deal with it alone. In this battle though, he was already in his mind. There was no mind to hide in. Or so he thought.

Turning his focus away from Voldemort, Harry looked inwards and found a place to hide.

His unconscious mind. The part of him that assessed everything from a distance, retaining information that his conscious mind missed. The part of him that was, ultimately, linked to his magic.

Here in the deepest depths of his mind, Harry found an answer to his problem.

Voldemort was casting the cruciatus curse. It was proof that spells still worked in this mindscape. It was reasonable to assume that he could do the same. Even though there was no counter that Harry knew to the unforgivable curse, he had learnt his lesson from the evening's earlier battle.

With a formless blast of magic, Harry pushed at the darkness.

* * *

In the physical world, Remus was still holding Harry still. Albus had almost immediately followed Severus into a deep trance, his hands softly glowing with power. The Headmaster was using all of his magic to keep Harry and Severus tethered to the world. Poppy was frantic, one of the few times that Remus had ever seen her upset about anything. 

Instantly he knew something had happened when Harry's body suddenly went dead still. The sudden lack of resistance was frightening, yet when he touched Harry gently, he realised that the body was still full of tension. The cruciatus continued to ravage the Harry's nervous system, but he was no longer responding. Only the constant, small twitches in his muscles indicated the unforgivable's presence.

Suddenly a nimbus of silvery white magic emanated from Harry, forcing everyone out of the room that was not touching the body, to the Order's consternation. Several members tried and failed to penetrate the glowing shield that now filled the room. Madam Pomfrey was also outside the door, unable to reach her patient.

"What's happening?" she asked.

Remus looked as helpless as she felt.

"I don't know."

* * *

Harry felt a surge of hope. The darkness was retreating slowly under the dazzling shield that surrounded him. He looked back to Voldemort, who had paused in his cursing, surprised by his enemy's retaliation. 

"What are you doing?!" the snake-like man snarled. "You cannot defeat me!"

"To be honest," croaked Harry, uncurling slightly on the ground. "I have no idea what I'm doing, but it's worked every other time you've attempted to kill me. So I think I'll continue…"

The red eyes widened with fear and anger, and the wizard responded in the only way he knew.

"Crucio!"

Harry eyed the red curse as it flew towards him. As it reached his shield, it splashed harmlessly against the bright silver. He was shocked as the curse was absorbed into the shield, lending added magical strength. Determined to finish the battle, he concentrated on extending his magic that was overpowering Voldemort's darkness. As the darkness receded, his link with Severus grew clearer, and he drew strength from the feelings of love, care and concern that flowed from his godfather. Gathering his magic together, he loosed a final bolt of magic towards Voldemort.

The bright silver streaked across the desolate plain to a fleeing Voldemort. Arrow-like, it clipped the dark lord in the shoulder as he disappeared. Free from the evil presence, the plain faded away, and Harry collapsed into Severus' arms, safely inside the walls of his mental fortress.

Severus gathered Harry close, the boy resting his head tiredly against his godfather's chest, mutually sharing their relief. Neither had the strength to maintain the mental connection for long. Eventually, their mental forms flickered, and faded away.

* * *

Remus was startled as Harry took a deep breath and relaxed, a sigh escaping the slightly parted lips. Even now, his muscles would spasm; proof of the ordeal he had survived. Seconds later the barrier disintegrated the magic swirling back towards Harry. 

Poppy immediately hurried in to tend to her patients, her warning glare halting the people at the door that made to follow. The entire Weasley family, minus Percy blocked the doorway, forcing many of the adults to retreat reluctantly.

For the sake of Harry and Severus, Poppy put up a privacy ward before carefully untangling their limbs. Harry was clearly the worst off; a fine tremble was apparent in his limbs and lines of pain marred his dead pale face. Remus shifted Severus and Albus into their own beds before returning to Poppy, who thrust vials of potions into his hands, directing him to pour them down the teen's throat while she conducted a deeper scan.

The scan showed numerous small muscle and ligament tears centred around the joints. Harry's heartbeat was weaker than she liked, strengthening it, she cast a monitoring charm to alert her if his condition changed. The largest problem was magical exhaustion; his magic levels were nearly non-existent and the mediwitch hoped her favourite patient would recover completely.

Magical exhaustion was a strange thing, and quite uncommon, although Poppy saw a few more cases than most healers due to the unstable nature of the magical core during early adolescence. Predictably, between three to ten third years would suffer from a mild case in a year, the magical exhaustion displaying in headaches, inattentiveness and general fatigue in classes. Usually, such children would be at about three quarters of their normal power, and could be solved by a energy potion and plenty of rest while their magical core recovered naturally. In Harry's case, however, she suspected that it would require far more specialised treatment.

Unable to do any more for Harry, she moved her attention to Severus. The man's face was paler than usual and but his only problems seemed to be magical exhaustion and a few bruises, most probably obtained during the battle. She gave him an energy replenisher to assist the natural healing, and took advantage of his rare unconscious state to run a full medical scan. The stubborn man refused to stay in the hospital wing at all costs, even after a night under the cruciatus. This was the first time in a few months she had been able to examine the man without him being uncooperative. Tutting softly at the results, she made a mental note to tell the house elves that they needed to remind Severus to eat. Otherwise satisfied, she looked over to Dumbledore, and was startled to see him watching her tiredly.

"Headmaster!" Poppy exclaimed softly. "How do you feel?"

"A little tired Poppy, but I will be fine. I haven't needed to use so much magic since the fiasco at the Ministry. How are they?"

"Both have magical exhaustion, Harry more than Severus. Severus should be fine with some rest, but I'm not sure how long it will take to heal Harry's magical exhaustion. He's nearly empty," answered Poppy, troubled.

"Don't worry yourself about that now, dear. I know a few things that may help, and Harry is a powerful young wizard. What have the Order been told?"

"Nothing yet."

"They must be anxious. Give me an invigorating draught, and I'll last a few more hours."

The witch protested half-heartedly. She knew that Dumbledore would do as he pleased. Helping the venerable wizard to stand, she sighed exasperated at the stubbornness of her patients. _Why did they always want to run away? _

Exiting the room, Albus was immediately surrounded by worried Order members talking over one another in their haste to have questions answered. He winced inwardly, he didn't feel quite as fit as he'd told Poppy, and the noise was making his headache worse. He held up a hand for blessed silence, and thanked Merlin that people actually listened to him.

"Harry is alive," he stated without any preamble. "He survived a battle with Voldemort and is extremely tired but he will recover. He and Severus are currently unconscious and will probably not wake for a while."

"Snape? Why is he unconscious?" asked a puzzled Ron.

"_Professor_ Snape poured his magic and energy into Harry to keep him alive, at the risk of his own life," Albus said sternly. He knew he was exaggerating a tad, but he was too tired to care about such insignificant things.

There was a brief silence.

"Bloody Hell! I'm never calling him a greasy git again," whispered an awestruck Ron.

The tension broken, all of them shared a relieved laugh.

"Professor Dumbledore, how did You-Know-Who attack Harry in the first place? Is Headquarters in danger?" asked a concerned Molly.

"As far as I can tell, the failed killing curse that Voldemort cast created a link of some kind between him and Harry. Voldemort is able to project Harry images, dreams, feelings or visions. Tonight, I believe that Voldemort was enraged by the failed attack on Privet Drive and he somehow drew Harry into the link, trapping them in a battle."

He looked sternly at everyone there.

"This information is not to be spoken of to anyone, not even amongst yourselves. Is that clear?"

Met with mute consensus, he smiled slightly, discreetly adding a secrecy spell over the group as a precaution. He quickly regretted it as the spell drained his energy further, making him dearly wish to be back in a bed.

"I suggest everyone get some rest."

It was a clear dismissal. Most took note of the Headmaster's tired features and quickly dispersed, taking others with them. Albus made his way back into the room, closing the door behind him softly. Poppy was already sleeping in another bed but Remus was keeping vigil by Harry's bedside. He nudged the younger man gently.

"You look as exhausted as I am, Remus. Harry will be fine, and there is a monitoring charm set up," he reassured, guiding him away from Harry.

Satisfied that Remus was resting comfortably, he headed for his own bed, pausing for a moment to press a kiss to Harry's forehead. Gratefully, he lay down on the thick mattress, feeling wearier than he had in years.

* * *

A/N: Thank you very much to all my reviewers. As always, many thanks to RavensCave, my beta reader! PLEASE REVIEW!! 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

In the upstairs room, Albus was very slowly waking up. Pale blue eyes blinked in momentary confusion. Sitting up slowly, he surveyed the room. Harry and Severus were both asleep still. Remus and Poppy were gone. He carefully moved a chair in between the two beds, holding Harry's hand gently.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Harry" he said sorrowfully.

There was no response from the pale face. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest told him that Harry was even alive.

"Please wake up, Harry" whispered Albus. "I love you like my own grandchild."

* * *

Severus lay very still as consciousness returned. He didn't remember going to bed, and experience made him instantly wary. Eyes still closed, he cautiously extended a magical scan of the room, and was surprised to feel an affectionate returning brush. He opened his eyes slowly.

Albus was sitting next to his bed.

"How are you feeling, Severus?" he asked quietly.

Severus completely ignored the question.

"How's Harry?"

Severus frowned slightly at the weakness of his voice. He hated this feeling, although he had unfortunately experienced it far too many times.

Albus sighed a little, making Severus start to feel worried.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Severus. Physically, Poppy thinks he will make a full recovery, but magically…"

His voice trailed off, his head shaking slightly.

"His reserves are nearly empty. I don't know what will happen. There have been so few cases like his in history. I myself only know of two…"

The younger man looked at his mentor closely, sensing a depressing story behind the comment.

'What happened to them, Albus?"

"One woke briefly, but slipped into a coma after an hour or so. He never woke up. The other…"

The old man sighed again, re-living the pain of old memories.

"She woke up three days later but it was as though she was a muggle. She had no magic, nor any memory of ever having it."

* * *

Harry was drifting, borne by the current of a dark river. Here, there was no pain, no anger, no danger; just peace. As he floated with the current, he found himself gradually becoming sleepier. All of his energy was draining away, to be replaced with the comfortable quiet of this river. He never noticed his eyes slipping shut

A soft cry reached his ears and he opened his eyes slowly, annoyed at the interruption.

'Harry! Please come back!' a voice begged in the distance. It was vaguely familiar. Female.

'Mum? I'm so tired…' he murmured softly.

'Harry! Fight the pull! It's leeching your magic!'

That was Sirius' voice. He sounded frantic. _Perhaps he should listen to them?_ He started to fight the river current, but he could tell it was too strong. He didn't even know how to swim properly. He was already so tired…

'_Let me help you, child'_ whispered another voice.

A golden rope appeared in front of him, and Harry clung to it as he was pulled back slowly. Power…_his power_…flooded his body, a tingling in his limbs. Power continued to flow until his body was bursting with raw, untamed power that quickly overwhelmed him.

* * *

Severus was morbidly contemplating the fate of his godson when alarms sounded in the room. He struggled to see what was happening as Albus placed a hand on Harry's forehead.

"He's burning up," Albus said worriedly.

Poppy rushed into the room, having been alerted by the monitoring charm. She took one look at Harry and paled.

"His magic levels are fluctuating rapidly, Headmaster. His fever keeps climbing, but it's magically induced. There is nothing I can do for him," she stated.

Seconds later, the room was filled with golden light. Albus and Severus gasped at the sight.

"Albus…is that his…" Severus asked uncertainly.

"I think so…I don't know how it…" replied Albus, mesmerised by the golden light.

Poppy was completely confused. The two men seemed to be speaking in half sentences that didn't make sense to her.

"Would someone please explain what is happening?" she interrupted, a little irritably.

The two turned to look at her in surprise.

"We're not certain…but I think Harry's magic is maturing…" answered Severus.

Albus nodded in agreement. "Not only that, Poppy, but Harry's magic is_changing_, it's unheard of!"

"As long as my patient is recovering," Poppy responded. "However, Professor Snape, _you_ should be sleeping."

She advanced on the man with a handful of potions.

Severus eyed her warily. He recognised all of the potions, having brewed all of them himself. Steeling himself, he grudgingly accepted the pain reliever and the replenisher, but absolutely refused the sleeping potion.

"Not while Harry's still asleep." Severus' voice was very firm. "I want to be here when he wakes up."

* * *

Harry opened his eyes to see a large black dog looking at him mournfully. Padfoot barked excitedly when he saw Harry waking up, lunging at him to place his fore paws on his chest.

"Hey Sirius," muttered Harry, sitting up slowly. Sirius shifted into his human form to hug him tightly.

He was in the room with his family again. Suddenly, both his parents descended upon him, alternately hugging or scolding him for worrying them. Unused to such affection, Harry gave Sirius a slightly panicked look.

"Prongs, let him breathe," drawled Sirius.

"You really ought to be in bed still," fretted Lily. "You're still looking a bit pale."

Harry transformed the couch into a large bed with a thought, and crawled onto the mattress, beginning to feel the fatigue remaining from his battle with Voldemort. Sirius popped back into his animagus form, curling up at his feet, while Lily and James joined him on either side.

"Mum? How'd I stop the killing curse? And what happened to all the others?" asked Harry. The question had been tugging on the edge of his mind ever since.

Lily sighed, looking at her husband for guidance.

"You explain," she said.

"Harry, you know that this link was created by the killing curse. It also caused the explosion that knocked you out. Bellatrix Lestrange took the worst of the blast…"

"She's dead! I killed her?!" Harry's voice was higher pitched than usual.

"No Harry, she killed herself. It was her own spell that felled her."

Lily was being very firm about this. She had seen how Harry tended to feel guilty about everything that happened. Harry simply stared at her, and she wrapped him in another warm hug, kissing that black mop of hair lovingly. Harry only snuggled deeper into his mother's arms.

"Did you still want to know about the killing curse?" asked James in a teasing tone. He snickered as his son nodded enthusiastically, rolling over to face him.

"Okay Harry…time for a quick 'nature of magic' lesson. Spells are made of magic, as I'm sure we all agree. However, a spell is not simply one blast of magic; it's created carefully to serve its purpose. The simplest spells have very few intricacies; in transfiguration for an example, a paper to paper product is easier than…say, a paper to metal product. Understand Harry?"

"The complexity of spells depends on the amount of things that the magic needs to do?" summarised Harry, wondering absently why this wasn't taught in Hogwarts.

He remembered seeing the threads of magic in the spell.

"I saw the threads of the killing curse…I pulled one of them – what did I do?"

"The killing curse is complicated. Its purpose is to rip through the victim's body and stop everything in its path instantaneously: lungs, heart, brain, everything. From what I understand, you snapped the thread that stops bodily functions, literally removing the fatal part of the spell!"

James was becoming more animated as he spoke, his eyes shining with pride in his son.

"Removing a thread made the spell unstable…it magnified the effects of the remaining threads. You magical core was out of control, and reacted with the unstable spell, creating the explosion that hit everyone. The magic still held the intent to forcefully rip through a person's body, causing unconsciousness. Bella was in the most direct path of the blast, because the spell originated from her."

Harry shivered slightly. He had hated the woman, but he hadn't wanted to kill her.

'Although, it was poetic justice that her own spell had finally killed her,' he mused.

"So…this thing I did…is it normal?" Harry asked aloud. He really didn't want to be a freak again.

"It is…quite rare…but it has happened before," answered Lily slowly. "I'm not allowed to tell you anymore about it…in time you'll find out…"

"I suggest you ask Albus when you have the chance. He might know what it is," suggested James. Padfoot whuffed softly in agreement, before pushing the blanket over his godson.

"Padfoot's right. You ought to be sleeping," said James.

Harry obediently curled up, shifting closer to his mother, and slept.

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was the feel of warm sunlight on his skin. Slowly swimming towards consciousness, he immediately wished he was asleep again as deep seated pain flared. Indistinct murmurs reached his ears, intensifying his pounding headache.

'_Harry?'_

Disorientated, he instinctively retreated from the gentlest of mental touches, the memory of blinding pain making his wary. Waves of concern and love flowed down the link, reassuring him that it was safe. He cautiously responded to the mind touch, and was rewarded with a rush of happiness, mixed in with relief.

He felt a gentle caress against his cheek and tried to lean into the touch, only to whimper at the pain produced by the slightest of movements. A vial touched his lips and he swallowed the bitter potion automatically. The pain receded somewhat as he struggled to open his eyes.

Slowly, very slowly, he managed to crack open an eyelid to see Severus' blurry face. He cracked a small smile.

"Hi Papa," he whispered.

* * *

A/N: My deepest apologies to all my readers to the lateness of this update. I have been experiencing...some technical difficulties...and a small case of writer's block.

My aim is to update within 2 weeks. Please review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Severus wrapped him in a tight hug, mindful of his injuries.

"Don't you dare so something like that again," he scolded. "You had me so worried – I'm not going to lose my godson just after finding him again!"

"Death Eaters?" rasped Harry, grimacing. His throat was painfully raw.

"Don't worry about that now. Albus is taking care of things. You've been out of it for almost a week!"

"What?!" exclaimed Harry, shooting upright in shock. He promptly groaned as a wave of nausea overcame him. Severus conjured a bucket just in time.

Feeling unbelievably weak and dizzy, Harry lay limply in his godfather's arms, barely having the strength to respond to his questions. Vomiting had only worsened his headache, which was throbbing unmercifully. Severus cast a breath freshening charm, banished the vomit and helped him sip from a glass of water. Harry drank thirstily, but winced as even the liquid irritated his enflamed throat.

"Dehydration," stated Severus. "Not to mention undernourishment, injuries, both old and new, an accelerated magical maturation…you'll be feeling dizzy for a while."

'Wonderful,' Harry thought sarcastically. 'Any chance of a pain killer?'

"Unfortunately no," replied Severus out loud. "You've already received a higher than recommended dosage of potion. Any more will kill you. For your throat however…"

The man produced a suspiciously muggle like syringe. It seemed to be filled with purple jelly.

'What is _that_?' Harry asked warily.

"Muggle pain medicine. Why bother making a potion when the muggles have something that works just as well?" Severus said in false cheeriness. "Open your mouth, don't worry…I think I've seen someone use it before."

Harry, who had begun to open his mouth, immediately snapped it shut again.

'You _think_ you know what you're doing?'

Severus smirked.

"Now that you mention it, I may have added a few spells that medicates automatically…"

He waved his wand, and Harry suddenly felt a cool substance coating his throat. He glared at Severus, who simply laughed.

'You are too easy to tease,' Severus said mentally. 'Is it working?'

Harry smiled affirmatively, not daring to risk nodding his head. He had a sneaking suspicion that he would be vomiting again if he did.

Severus settled him back into the bed comfortably, fluffing up the pillows and spelling shut the curtains, the dim the light to a more tolerable level for his headache. All the while, Severus told him about the past week, but Harry was only half listening. Trying to concentrate through this headache was difficult. His godfather's voice was low and soothing, and he felt his eyelids slipping shut of their own accord. He didn't notice that Severus had stopped talking until he heard a chuckle in his mind.

'You aren't listening to a word I'm saying, are you?' his mind voice sounded distinctly amused.

'Sorry,' apologised Harry. 'I can't do anything with this bloody headache.'

Long deceptively strong fingers massaged his temples. A cool burst of magic emanated from Severus' fingertips, chasing away the headache that was plaguing him. Harry sighed gratefully, his neck and shoulder muscles relaxing in the absence of pain.

"What was that? I could feel your magic," Harry murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. He was pleased to hear his voice sounding smoother. The muggle stuff had actually worked.

"It's an obscure branch of mind magic that allows the transference of healing power through touch, between individuals sharing a mental link. I call it touch therapy…the real name is too long and unpronounceable."

"Ah…it's useful," remarked Harry. "I've never heard of anything like touch therapy."

"I did say it was an _obscure_ branch of mind magic," reminded the man teasingly.

The two stayed in companionable silence for a time. Harry started to fidget in the bed slightly.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"She's dead. Bellatrix Lestrange is dead," stated Harry. He hadn't doubted his parents, but he somehow needed a confirmation. Needed Severus, needed his godfather to tell him the woman was dead.

"She's dead, Harry. It's a relief for the wizarding world in a way. She was insane."

"She…I…I'm not sad she's dead," Harry said confusedly. "Does that make me like Voldemort? She killed Sirius but still…shouldn't I be feeling…_something_?"

"Harry," sighed Severus, sitting down on the bed. "The Dark Lord _enjoys_ the death of his victims. He revels in the power of killing. You did not kill Bellatrix, nor are you enjoying her death. You may, perhaps, be feeling a bit relieved, but given your past history with her, I would be amazed if you mourned her death as you would if it had been…Tonks for an example. Not feeling anything is a sign that you're in shock, or have suppressed any emotions. It does NOT make you a dark lord."

"That night…in the Department of Mysteries…I tried a cruciatus curse on her…" admitted Harry.

Severus looked at him sharply.

"Did it work?"

"No. She told me I needed to want to cause the pain. I just wanted her to hurt like I was hurting…I'd just lost Sirius…"

Harry's voice cracked slightly, and he turned his head away.

"The magic felt so…wrong. I was sick for days later, but everyone though I was just mourning Sirius. If a failed cruciatus curse didn't work…I don't think I can kill Voldemort, Papa. I just can't cast the curse! Everyone is waiting for me to kill him, but I'm dooming the whole wizarding world! I just…"

Harry was crying softly now, instinctively leaning towards Severus for comfort. Severus held him gently, letting him cry, sensing that Harry had kept this fear bottled for too long. Eventually Harry sniffed, looking younger than Severus could ever remember seeing him.

'Sorry Papa, I don't know what just happened,' apologised an embarrassed Harry.

'Crying is normal Harry, particularly after pain. There has been times when Albus would let me cry for hours after a meeting,' reassured Severus. He was pleased that Harry was calling him Papa again.

'Let's deal with those worries, Harry. I, for one, am extremely glad that you cannot cast the unforgivables. The avada kedavra curse is not the only way to kill someone, and I have a suspicion that it would not work on the Dark Lord anyway. We will find a way to help you, Harry, and we will go into this battle together. We are not 'waiting' for you to off that bastard, but helping you."

Privately, Severus was surprised that this problem hadn't come out earlier. Nobody seemed to realise that pinning their hopes on Harry meant making him a murderer, if the Dark Lord could be considered human. He was careful not to deny the fact that Harry was the only person who could possibly kill him.

"I…thanks, Papa," said Harry softly, feeling less burdened than he had in days.

He shifted in bed, rolling onto his side, with a faint wince as muscles pulled. The wince was not missed by Severus, who directed him to lie on his front. Severus resumed his 'touch therapy', healing damage from the cruciatus curses and the beating Vernon had given him.

"Severus?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Did the Order see…I mean…does everyone know about…what Uncle Vernon did?"

Severus paused for a moment, before resuming his healing.

"No one except for you knows exactly what happened in that house. The headmaster and I probably know the most, but you didn't go into great detail about your injuries. Poppy knows the extent of your injuries but not the causes…she was horrified at any rate. Harry, what did he do to you?"

Harry grimaced.

"Actually, I don't really know. Like I told you, he knocked me unconscious within ten seconds. When I came to I contacted you straight away, and tried a few healing spells out, they worked pretty well but still…" he trailed off, thinking back to that night. "I remember thinking that he'd done a first rate job of beating me to a pulp. The broken ribs were probably caused by Bellatrix, but the bruises were Vernon's."

"And the lacerations on your back were also caused by him?" prompted Severus.

"Guess so…I don't really remember him whipping me before, I think it might have been the first time he'd tried that...Did they leave scars?" he asked, hoping for a negative response. More scars were the last thing he needed.

"Maybe, Poppy wasn't sure. I have some salve that might help."

"Ah," Harry said vaguely. There was a short pause.

"Severus, I need to go to the bathroom."

"Can you stand?" asked Severus, an amused lilt in his voice.

Harry sat up, swinging his legs over the edge. Only to promptly collapse.

"Never mind," mutter Severus as he picked the teen up, carrying him to the bathroom. After attending to his needs, Harry was placed back into the bed, much to his displeasure.

"Severus! I've spent long enough in bed. Can't I go downstairs for a bit?" pleaded Harry, giving the man his best puppy dog look. His stomach chose this moment to grumble loudly. "Even just for a bite to eat?"

Severus tried to remain stern, but Lily had always conquered him with that expression, and Harry was no different.

"Fine," he said, defeated. "But take an energy replenisher first."

Harry drank the potion without complaint, feeling new energy flood his body. He looked to his godfather for permission to get out of the bed.

"Only if you are strong enough," replied Severus to the unspoken question.

Harry carefully eased himself out of bed and took a few uncertain steps. When he didn't foresee any problems, he moved with more confidence. Just as he reached the door, he was halted by a hand on his shoulder. Severus offered a dressing gown for him, making him suddenly realise that he wore only sleep pants. Blushing faintly, he accepted the man's help in wrapping the material around him.

He continued to move into the corridor, only to look at the suddenly endless stairs that led to the kitchen in dismay. Before he could ask for help, Severus had swept him into his arms and carried him down the stairs. Just before they reached the kitchen, Severus set his godson down gently, correctly guessing that Harry didn't want to show weakness to anyone else.

Harry could hear arguing from within the room that was all too familiar to him

"Ron, honestly! If you had spent just a little more time studying with me you wouldn't be this worried!"

"But Hermione! Don't you see that life isn't all about studying? I have other important things in life…"

He looked at Severus in surprise.

"Miss Granger and her parents were brought after the attack for their safety. She has been rather worried about you," explained the man.

Harry nodded in understanding, pushing open the door slowly to find, as he expected, his two best friends in what looked like another study vs. Quidditch argument.

"Hi guys," he said softly.

"Hi Harry," they replied absently.

There was a short pause.

"HARRY!" shrieked Hermione excitedly.

She would have bowled him over had it not been for Severus' interruption.

"Miss Granger, please remember that Harry is still recovering. A little less enthusiasm would be appreciated."

Hermione stopped immediately, looking at her friend a little more critically.

"You should sit down Harry. My apologies, Professor Snape," she said deferentially in a manner more like what Severus was accustomed to.

Harry sat down with a soft sigh, feeling more tired than he had expected. From the concerned glance, he knew his friends, Hermione at least, had also noticed. A plate of scrambled eggs and a bowl of porridge were placed in front of him, and he started eating slowly. Severus was concocting something by the stove, listening to the teenagers' soft conversation.

"You don't look so good, mate," Ron said bluntly. Almost immediately, Hermione smacked him on the head.

"Teaspoon, Ronald," she reminded pointedly.

"Severus said I'll be feeling weak for a while," said Harry, looking at his friends closely for a reaction.

"Too bad, that's awful…hang on, did you call him _Severus_?! Since when are you on a first name basis?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Hermione huffed slightly.

"Don't you ever listen to what I say, Ron? They share a mental bond! And Professor Dumbledore said there were other secrets involved that he couldn't tell us about."

"Umm…about those secrets…" Harry said slowly, looking at his godfather for guidance.

"You may tell them, but realise that the information could be deadly," replied Severus.

Harry glanced at his friends' pale faces. The events at the ministry had matured them faster than most adolescents.

"I trust their judgement. They need to know," stated Harry, turning to face Ron and Hermione.


End file.
